Acts of Charity
by Mr. Pooch
Summary: Set during Dead Man's Chest. Bill Bootstrap Turner recollects on his son, and the game of Liar's Dice.


Title: Acts of Charity

Author: Corinthian Faerie

Rating: PG

Summary: Liar's Dice is called such for a reason, son-only fools and liars play.

Warning: No beta except for spell check.

Disclaimer: Belongs to M-I-C-K-E-Y, M-O-U-S-E!

_An act of charity...___

Yes, son, I whipped you out of charity. Partly. And because a small part of me wanted to drive you off this boat. Maybe I'd hoped that if I hit you hard enough, you'd give in, dive off board, swim back to Jack's boat-anything. Anything but stay here. You did, of course. And I'm not so sure I would-or will- trust Jack around you. Mind you, Jack is a good man-he'd never think so-but before he does realize this, most of the people around him will have suffered greatly. And I don't want that to be you. If I told you this, you probably wouldn't listen. Then again, maybe you would. Will, you seem decent, honest, kind, and caring-nothing like a pirate. Nothing like your old man. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would ask you how you had gotten involved with Jack in the first place.

_But I know...___

The Dutchman had plunged into her home, the sea. She went down, down further and still down into blackness, nothingness. Every other crewmember but I was used to this, accostumed to the plunge. This story happened the day after Davy Jones "rescued" me from death. I still wasn't used to anything here, staring about as you do now. But, either way, candles were lit and the rum was bought out. Games were set at small crates containing soggy food.

"Bill," cried Leech, "Bill, have a drink!"

I took it, and however many more followed. This alcohol was not like the rum Jack swallows by the gallon daily, nor the champange of rich men in powdered wigs. It was theirs and theirs alone. It tasted like the sea, stinging and bitter and salty. It tasted like tears. I drank more...and more...and more, trying to get over the taste, over the memories it bought back. You know, most of the "hitchikers" we have on us came when we were drinking-still and remembering, that's how you grow fins. Or so they say...

Either way, Leech came over again, and by now I barely could recognize him.

"Ay, Bill, c'mere." I followed him. "Ya ever play Liar's Dice?" He grinned wickedly.  
I shook my head, dumb.  
"A first-timer, eh? No worries, just sit down there."

My first game of Liar's Dice. I played against Palifico, the ship's unspoken king gambler-although none of them found the strength to tell me that.

"I bet five years," he said in his low growl.  
I turned to Leech, looking for an explanation.  
"What's your debt to the captain?" he asked.  
The shame of my bargan, played around in a game. " I owe 100 years."  
"Well," Leech began, "ya can bet that..."  
"Leech!" came Palifico's growl, "shut up."

Leech's "mouth sprang shut. So did the rest of our assembed crowd. Liar's Dice is a spectator sport for those who want to see men in pain-not physical of course, but the long, slow ache of years. Adding, subtracting-a game of math for the cursed, for the ones who cannot escape. A game of chance, ha! What chance is there when you have nothing to lose?

_Except this night, I did..._

"Do you have any kids, Bootstap?" Palifico asked.  
I nodded. "One. A son."  
He thought, his head tipped to the side, then he grinned.  
" Let's make tonight interesting. I have a kid, too, you know- a daughter. Beauty of a girl, really. Let's put them in the mix."  
The crowd laughed.

_And I"m sorry, Will, I'm so sorry and so foolish, so sorry. So sorry I said_

"Sure. How?"  
"I'll bet my daughter dies at sea. " He caught my look of horror. "Well, why not-then she'll be here."  
Another roar of laughter.  
I swallowed and said, "I bet my son comes to the ocean-lives there, dies there, and becomes a part of it. "  
He looked at me, trying to decide if I was lying alreadly. "Very poetic. Let's begin."

_Well, you can guess what happens. _

I lost. He called out, but softly-ever so softly, for the Angel of Death whisphers, "Liar". We flipped over our cups to find...he was right. I had lied. Another game was called, and our crewmates moved on. Palifico smiled, said something, and walked to this new game. I sat there, still a little lost in the alcohol, in the game, in the loss. You crossed my mind, Will, over and over again. Then-I looked down at the table, Will, and saw that his cup had more die than mine. Now, this wasn't supposed to happen, and I knew that. I wasn't that much of a fool. Turning around, I saw Leech, standing apart, smiling at me. In between his fingers were the die that would have let me win the game. That would have given you a chance. In the candlelight, I never saw him slip them out of the cup. 

_I bet my son comes to the ocean. Lives there, dies there, and becomes a part of it._

Fool! Fool! Drunken fool! I scream it, over and over again at myself whenever I see you. Liar's Dice is not just a game-all pirates know that-you too, I suppose. And I know what I said that night will-is-coming true. Is happening. Because you are here. Because you are, in all respects save a few, a pirate. And because, Will, how can you hope to survive all this? The captain, Jack Sparrow, the Kraken-all of this? I know that you will die, Will-out here, somehow.

_An act of charity for a son. _

So I help you in the game that I loathe and curse-and I lose again. And I help you get the key. And I give you information on the ship and it's demons. I give you my knife. You tell me you'll come back to rescue me. But, Will, I pray you will not.

Because everything I do to help you, every act of charity, is all to make up for that first game of Liar's Dice. Is to pro-long what I said from coming true. Everything I do to help you is for you to live...

One more day...  
One more hour...  
One more minute...  
One more second...  
Til the end.


End file.
